


Hard Introduction

by ritsuko



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Bondage, Doggy Style, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fingering, HYDRA Trash Party, Hard Fucking, Hazing, Locker Room Sex, Lube, M/M, New Recruit - Freeform, Positions of Power, Pre-Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Pre-Avengers (2012), Rape, SHIELD, SHIELD Academy, Spanking, coming without touch, did that just happen?, naked, not speaking up, pulling out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9519524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsuko/pseuds/ritsuko
Summary: Clint is the new guy. But some people in SHIELD think it's fun to play with the new guy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VicStone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicStone/gifts).



> Oooh, it's a mystery! Put on your sleuthing caps! Will you know whodunit by the end of the fic (depends on how much trash you read, tbh)

HARD INTRODUCTION

_Years ago_

"Okay guys, this isn't funny anymore." Clint's voice echoed through the empty locker room, but no one answered back. 

It was true though, it wasn't funny. At least not to him. Maybe it had been to the guys that had done this to him. But right now he was feeling pretty cold and irritated.

After a life of misfortune, he'd thought that he had finally found his own niche to be in. He should have known better, not to get so drunk with a bunch of new co-workers, but SHIELD had seemed semi-legit, at least, not the type of people that would have gotten him naked and handcuffed him spread-eagled over a bench. Oh, and blindfolded him. Of course, couldn't forget that.

Maybe he shouldn't have drank so much, but then hey, night out with the guys, make them all think the newbie's cool. Now, they were all probably laughing and thinking about what a total putz he actually was. He groaned, just remembering how easy it had been to get him out of his clothes.

Clint struggled in the cuffs for a good twenty minutes before giving up with a sigh. It wasn't like he'd never gotten out of a pair of handcuffs before, but the restraints they'd used were top notch. Trust SHIELD to not half ass anything. Even hazing. Chances were, Director Fury would walk in in the morning and change his mind once he saw the archer nude, subdued and humiliated. Not like it would be all that much of a change for him; people were constantly changing their minds about his usefulness. 

He'd just hoped it would last longer this time.

Clint was half asleep when he heard bootfalls on the linoleum of the locker room floor, but they were just loud enough to register and startle him awake. His head whipped up towards the sound, cursing inwardly that the person was behind him. "Hello?" He called out, hoping he didn't sound too desperate. "Hey, uh, could you maybe help me out? Some of the guys thought this would be funny, but I'd really like to go home now. Sleeping on a bench kinda sucks."

Silence stretched, and he wondered if he made up the sound, or if his hearing aid on the fritz. Or maybe he was still drunk enough that he was hearing things. "Um, you there buddy? Or ma'am. Ahhh, I'm sorry if it's ma'am." _God, if it's a ma'am, I am so fucking screwed._ He thought, bracing himself for whatever outcome.

There was nothing but silence. He must have made it up. Now, he'd get to spend the rest of his evening tied up and slightly less hammered than when he got here.

Finally, he screamed out in frustration. "Dammit, will someone just-"

There was a feather light touch on his bare ass that left him speechless. The barest trace of a fingertip tracing over one globe. Clint swallowed harshly. He couldn't believe that there was actually someone there, and that they were actually touching him. Touching his ass. Like, was this actually for real? "Um, hello, there-"

No response, though the touch became stronger, turning into a calloused hand kneading his ass. His voice squeaked out slightly, shocked by the ministrations. "Hi, well, uh, this is kind of awkward with you doing that-"

But the hand didn't stop, it just got more agressive and assertive with each stroke over the flesh of his ass. Clint's legs trembled, half dazed mind wondering just what the hell he should do. Normally, he wouldn't have minded something like this. Clint was a sucker for touch. He loved to be held and touched and praised, as little as those things happened or ever held any meaning for any and all involved parties. His home life had been awful, abusive father, becoming a runaway, working tooth and nail to try and get some semblance of normalcy in his life. He had only really had one night stands and flirting that went nowhere. There'd never been anything real. Not that this was anything real, this was someone getting pretty damn handsy with his ass. At his new place of work. 

He was pretty sure there had been some rules against fraternization in the rulebook. Probably along the same rules that were against you sexually harassing a new co-worker.

"Um, ya know, I'm really flattered, but maybe you could untie me? That would be a whole hell of a lot sexier, you know, if I could like see who was grabbing my ass."

Those fingers moved down to stroke the insides of his thighs and he shuddered. This person was getting very close to that place where the sun didn't shine, and he didn't know if he was okay with that. Not without knowing who was doing the touching. _What a fucked up thing to think, man. This shouldn't be sexy._ He squirmed, berating himself. Why the hell did he think this was sexy?

He was never drinking Tequila again.

The hand moved away for a moment and her breathed a sigh of relief, until it cracked down across his ass. Clint yelped, bucking in his bonds. "What the-"

But the hand came down again and again, covering his ass with a rain of slaps. Each slap came down on his exposed flesh, until he was crying out from the sensation. It hurt, fuck did it hurt! At the same time there was this underlying heat that made his skin felt hot and prickly, the stinging sensation nearly blissful. Soon his ass felt like it was radiating heat, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. 

Finally, the hand relented, and he realized just how hard he was breathing. It took him a couple of ragged breaths to choke out any kind of a response. "Well, if this is how you treat all the new hires, it's no wonder only the finest make the grade." He quipped, knowing that he didn't sound strong or sure of himself at all. He shifted on the bench, and came to another awkward realization: he was hard.

It wasn't as if kinky shit had never gotten him hard before, he'd been tied up before, even blindfolded. But the spanking, that was new. He'd never really considered that might be something that would get him off, but his little arrow was notched and ready, so who was he to judge? He only wished he could see whoever it was doing this, make it a little less awkward.

But maybe that was it; not knowing who was doing it. A shiver went up his spine, and he knew it was the fucked up, unrealistic truth. It was hot because he didn't know who was doing this to him.

Something traced his rim, something undeniably slick and very, very fingery. He jerked away as much as he could with a squawk, until a forearm pressed hard into his back pinning him against the bench. The other person was strong, and judging by the scrape of hair on their arm, most definitely another guy.

"Come on man, I don't know what you think you're-"

That digit pushed in and robbed him of any further words. It didn't go far, maybe only to the first knuckle, but he wasn't ready for it. Only when it dragged back out of him could he take a ragged breath.

"Holy shit, come on, man! I mean, this is not what I signed up for!"

There was a low, gravelly chuckle behind him, the first noise he had heard from the other man throughout this entire ordeal. Just the sound was enough to irritate him. Just who the hell did this asshole think he was? He wanted to jerk back and forth, but he was still speared on the other man's finger.

"You think this is funny?" He demanded. "This is bullshit! I doubt there's any other organization in the country that wou-AAAAAAH!" Clint squealed, as that finger hooked further into him. The stretch burned and he grit his teeth. "Get. Off." He hissed, but that insistent finger continued to worm inside him, until they stroked a spot inside him that made his gut lurch. His cock twitched hard enough to slap his belly. Despite his indignance, he had to admit his body was enjoying the attention.

Fuck, it felt good. He bit his lip, but still a moan slipped out. There was another chuckle, and the finger rubbed repeatedly.

"Please man, I, ah! I don't know why you're going this-" Well of course he knew why this guy was doing this. He thought that he could get away with it, and considering the guys was probably a secrety spy kind of dude, he probably would. His breath hitched as the finger popped out and he could feel a second insistent digit pressing against his rim. Clint really didn't think that he could get another one in, not without lube. The other man must have thought much of the same thing, because he heard something open and felt cool, slick liquid slide down his ass crack. The fingers eased slightly in and out, coating his taut hole before pressing in further.

"Wow," Clint gasped, feeling heady with sensation. "That's convenient, tell me does SHIELD give out lube as standard issue, or. . .?"

He heard the other man chuckle like rough sandpapery grit as his fingers groped deeper into him. "Mouthy."

A gruff whisper, barely anything defining. Clint wondered if the man was talking to himself, and his hearing aids had just barely registered the noise. The digits scissored inside of him, spreading and slicking in and out, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Fuck, it felt awesome. Just being touched had felt good, but this guy knew what he was doing, his fingers pistoning in and out of his hole with determination.

"Mouthy. . . yeah." Clint gasped, those fingers attacking his sweet spot with a fervor. "Lot of things I can do with this mouth." He quipped, knowing that the other man probably wouldn't take the bait. If he was being this secretive, he'd never let Clint see his face. Plus, he probably shouldn't bite the dick off of a lethally trained SHIELD agent.

The other man continued to spread him, until he was shaking with need. He had to give it to the guy, he was good. It just sucked that this was going down like this.

The fingers retreated, and Clint felt the smooth head of the other man's cock line up against his asshole. The pit fell out of his stomach as he knew that finally, it was going to happen. The worst part was he didn't like that he kind of wanted it to.

"Hey, you think maybe we can take this a little slower? Maybe we could go out on the town, a moonlit walk in the park? Hell, I'll even let you pick the restaurant-"

A hand clamped over his mouth and Clint winced. He knew he'd gone too far and his mouthiness suddenly wasn't cute anymore.

The fat head of that cock started to push past his rim, and he moaned into the palm of the other man's hand. Lubing his ass didn't take away the burn of the thickness pressing into him. The other guy felt like he his cock was enormous, but then anything getting pushed into your ass when you weren't really ready for it seemed larger than it was.

He had to give it to the other man, he went slowly, but it still felt like he was being stretched to the brink. The push into him was insistent, and the man barely slowed as he shoved several thick inches into Clint's unyielding hole. Just when Clint thought that he couldn't take any more, the other man eased off, cock sliding out of him and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

Something cool and slick slid down the cleft of his ass and over the other man's cock, and the man pushed in again in three shallow strokes. Clint realized that he was at least trying to make penetration easier. His breaths started to come out in short rasps. It hurt, but it felt good. He knew that he shouldn't be enjoying this, but really, what the hell was he going to do now? There was no way of stopping this. He still had enough of a buzz that his senses were slightly dulled.

Clint Barton was not a man that half assed things. It was whole ass or nothing. So when he pushed back against the cock spearing him and heard a grunt of surprise, he smiled inwardly. _That'll show you._ He thought, drunk logic taking over.

His smugness lasted only a moment; the other man relentlessly pushed in, stretching him far faster than he would have like, drunk or not. A whimper caught behind his teeth, the slow sink of flesh into his body almost too much to bear. Sure, the other guy had lubed him up, but the tight burn of his asshole was overwhelming. His own cock ached between his thighs. 

That cock moved slightly, and he groaned. The other man was big, way too big and it had been too long since he'd had anyone do this to him. Still, that cock persisted in claiming him, easing out slightly before pushing further, deeper in. Clint could feel his entire body start to tremble, flesh on his arms pebbling at the sensation. Then, with one last forceful push, the other man was cemented deep inside, the other man's balls resting against his taint.

His oppressor didn't move, allowing him to adjust to the length of cock inside. Clint shuddered, his head feeling light from all of the sensations. His bound limbs ached. His cock was filled with a needful pressure. His ass- it was hard to focus with the pulsating length or meat inside him, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Clint groaned, he needed something, this to be over, the other man to move-

As if his thoughts or fidgeting was read, that cock withdrew, and plunged in again. A scream tore from his throat, muffled by the other man's hand still clamped over his mouth. He could feel the other man tense and curse under his breath. He shifted, and pushed in again.

This time, stars exploded behind Clint's eyelids. What had hurt before felt amazing now, that cock assaulting his sweet spot as if this was some sort of a mission. His scream quickly tapered off into a panting moan. He could feel his own cock full and hard, slapping futilely against his belly, and he whimpered at the lack of contact. If only he could stroke his cock.

But the other man didn't touch him there at all. When satisfied that the only noises tumbling from Clint's mouth were heated moans, he removed his hand and gripped Clint's waist to give him more leverage. He jackhammered his cock into Clint's needy flesh, and the younger man's eyes rolled back into his head. His body felt like he was on fire, intoxicated by the feel of this man's cock brutalizing him. He loved it. Each thrust, each stroke, brought him closer and closer to the edge. His toes curled, his tongue lolled from his mouth, and a needy whine continued to spill from his lips.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck-" He babbled in tempo with each thrust until he couldn't take any more. Suddenly, he exploded, cock shooting a thick stream of white that splattered on the floor. Clint's vision went hazy as his balls emptied, but the other man, made a smug noise and continued. Rough hands dug into his hip bones, slamming him against his pelvis, and Clint cried out in ecstasy. It was like his orgasm was being prolonged, each push into his prostate sent out chills through his core that kept his cock half hard and wanting. The moan that came out of his mouth was like nothing he'd ever heard before, needy, slutty, begging. 

It suddenly didn't matter anymore that this man had taken him in a less than honorable situation. Maybe it was the booze speaking, but he was pretty sure that this was the best sex he had ever had. Clint loved this, wanted more of this. "Yes," He croaked. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" 

The tempo sped up and suddenly, the other man grunted. One final thrust and Clint felt heat flood his insides. The sensation was heady.

A few more shallow pumps, and the man pulled out, letting go of his hips. They felt sore from where the man had been gripping him so hard. There would probably be bruises. Hell, he probably wouldn't be sitting for a week. A splatter hit his cheeks and he realized the man was milking his last little bit of cum onto Clint's ass. He panted, wanting more, wanting anything. A thin drizzle of cum seeped from his asshole, sliding down his taint and over his balls. The sensation was too much. He came again, weakly, as he panted and tried to fein off the encroaching blackness of unconsciousness. He barely heard the gruff voice above him laugh quietly. 

". . . . Welcome to SHIELD."

~*~*~

Clint was barely aware of footfalls coming towards him, and realized that he much have either passed out or had fallen asleep. His whole body ached, He moved to stretch, and realized that he was clothed again, jeans and a ratty shirt covering his body. All he knew was he hadn't dressed himself.

"You okay down there?" A slightly musical voice asked, and then he felt that he was no longer on the bench, but curled up on the cold concrete of the locker room floor. Groggily, he looked up into a kind smiling face. He couldn't remember the guy's name, but he'd been at orientation. One of Fury's right hand men or something.

Clint started to get up stiffly, gritting his teeth as he realized last night had not been some sort of a crazy dream. His ass hurt, and all he really wanted was coffee. And a shower. Maybe a coffee shower. "Yeah man, I, uh. . . just got a little carried away with the guys last night."

The other man smiled at him, something slightly sad in his eyes. "Are you sure, Barton? Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

Clint froze, staring at the other man. Did he know what had happened? Hell, could he have even been the one to do it? Looking at him in his dapper suit and shy smile, it was hard to believe that was even a possibility.

_Phil._

Yeah, that was the guys name, at least he thought it was.

He straightened and shrugged it off. "Nah, just, you know. Don't go to Margaritaville and not expect to pay the toll, am I right?" He joked.

There was a slight change in Phil's demeanor, just a slight twinge of his jaw, and then it was gone, back in that perfectly warm and welcoming mask. "All right Barton, but just remember, I'm here to help. Any questions you have about SHIELD, anything at all." He stated simply, and turned on his heel to leave. "Also, we're meeting in twenty at the rotunda. Don't be late."

Then he was gone.

Clint slumped. He barely had the time to squeak in a shower and get suited up before the meet time, but he'd have to. He could always take a scorching shower later, and consider if this SHIELD gig was actually worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, who was it???  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Yeah, it was Brock. C'Mon. Could you doubt it?
> 
> Based on this prompt:
> 
> _Also, scenario occurs: A few years prior to the first Avengers movie, Clint gets drunk with a bunch of SHIELD buddies, and they handcuff his dumb, unconscious, naked ass to a weight bench in the gym as a prank. THEN BROCK FINDS HIM. Or alternately STRIKE takes him out for a friendly drink and "pranks" him that way, leaving him for Brock to find._
> 
> [TUMBLR!](http://ritsuko_chan.tumblr.com)


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